"'Why don't they talk about my relationships with presidents? With people of culture? Why do they always talk about my mob associations?' And then he said, 'Oh, by the way, Alan, say hello to Willie the Nose, Hymie the Hook, Nick the Knife—' I started to laugh, and he bristled. 'What are you laughing at?"
'Nothing, Frank,' I said. 'Nothing.'"
—Alan King on Frank Sinatra, Name Dropping
Kokoa: I'm sorry, Gin. I didn't mean to hurt her so badly.
Felucia: You were chasing me in the halls to slaughter her in your rage. To an observer, it would seem like you were trying to kill her.
"After many many months of trying to get her go get her go get her go get her back, it looks like Robin Thicke can finally call the 1-800-GOT-JUNK guys to come and pick up the hundreds of boxes of unsold Paula albums in his garage and take them to the dump where they belong, because his wife has officially gone from 'estranged' to 'fuck this, Iím out'...Paula simply walked into the Los Angeles County divorce court offices, threw down a copy of Paula, and said 'This. This is why. Write that as the reason.'
Well, he tried. Not everybody tries to win back their estranged wife by releasing a shitty thrown-together album of stalker-sounding love songs in a shameless attempt to profit off of your break-up and convince the public youíre not a douche-dipped pussy hound...Iím sure Robin is taking this divorce news pretty hard ('Oh yeah, so hard' Ė says Robin, as his penis cries into hooker pussy)"